10th Galactic stormtroopers
by Ender1030
Summary: They are the elite. Some of the finest the Empire has to offer. And they all hate the Emperor.
1. Chapter 1

Calm dusk air was shattered by the crack of a rifle. A bird squawked in alarm. The lot of them, beautifully, predictably arranged in a V pattern wheeled in dismay as one of them plummeted toward the ground. Another crack. The leader fell. The flock of birds zipped up and away, but two more fell.

A little boy cocked the rifle again and aimed. A man, older hard faced knelt down next to him, squinting one eyed down the sight.

"Lead the target Trev." He said.

Little Trev squeezed the trigger. The explosive crack almost pitched the gun out of the boy's hands but he managed to hold it. A meaty _thump_ announced the arrival of next weeks dinner. Looks like they were having poultry for a long long while

Trev beamed with delight as the dogs ran forward to retrieve the kill. "Good shooting" Kolor nodded. He tied the birds up by their feet and hauled them over his broad back. They really were quite heavy. They could fly, just not fast. Definitely not fast enough to escape a bullet.

"Can we go again tomorrow?" Trev shouldered the rifle, almost twice as high as him, with the mock professionalism of someone who had only seen it done.

"Tomorrow?" Kolor laughed "we've enough here to last us a week and a half!"

"yes sir."

Kolor ruffled his son's dirty yellow hair. The boy shoved his father's hand away with mock embarrassment. The hills seemed to sing happiness, the forests burst ripe with colors of autumn. He eyed his son's look. Nothing showed on the boy's face, but he could see shrouded disappointment in his hazel eyes.

"disappointed?"

"yes sir." Trev mumbled.

"you must remember not to enjoy killing."

The little boy's eyes dazzled, not at understanding but in befuddlement. He looked up.

"not enjoy killing? Of course! But there is no reason not to enjoy the _glory_ of death by my hand, is that not?"

"you've been at the Caiphas Cain drama's again haven't you."

"what reason is there _not_ to enjoy that sort of glory? Having power over an enemy, slaying them for his Holiness, bringing down the fist of His Divine-"

"That is not a reason for killing. And there is no reason for enjoying it."

Trev was looking at a monster now. But he couldn't run away from it.

"do you plan to join up with the guard when you grow?" Kolor asked.

"of course. Travel the galaxy, and fight. Every boy wants to do it."

"that's true." Kolor nodded. "But do not join for the glory."

"then why on Terra did _you_ join?" Trev poked his father's belly.

"for the glory." Kolor admitted. Trev pursed his mouth in a triumphant _Ha!_ But Kolor interrupted him before he could exhale. "And I was wrong to do that."

Trev shut his mouth and looked away.

"Trev, look around you. You see Gravapol's beauty? You see the colors the world has to offer? The fruits of our bounties? You're loving parents, family and friends?"

Kolor inhaled and grinned, closing his eyes. The wind brushed his hair, sweeping it across the right side of his face. "that is what you should be fighting for. Not for the glory, but for the people you love and the people you don't know."

"I don't understand."

"You will fight. So that someone somewhere will not have to be thrown into warfare if he or she does not have a choice. You fight to keep the peace, not for the sake of fighting."

Trev nodded and shouldered the rifle.

"Is that why you were discharged from the regiment?"

Far off, the house came into view. The hilltop it stood on gave view to the east of the family's grain fields. A woman was standing outside beating the dust out of rugs with a surprising bit of enthusiasm. She wiped her forehead and looked toward them. Even from this distance she could tell she was smiling, and he could already taste the fowl on his lips.

"Hurry up you two!" the woman shouted "Or I'll roast you alive with the fowl!"

"Trev, that is the reason why I left the regiment" Kolor grinned and ruffled his son's hair again. "go wash up, we have company tonight."

The birds were cleaned, gutted and roasted, twisting over the open oven. Kolor kissed Diane as they walked in, and Trev blenched. "Wash up boy." Diane called as Trev stomped off to his room.

"I can smell your wife's cooking over a kilometer away." A scruffy old man shucked his coat and tossed it onto the rack.

"it's been too long Markel" Kolor smiled

"mind the mud." Diane nodded in acknowledgement, "And help set the table while you're at it."

"evening to you Diane, its been too long." Markel smiled. Diane dodged a kiss to her cheek. Diane brought her elbow back sharply drawing a grunt.

"Hurt then too…" he muttered quietly.

More and more guests arrived, Pretol and his wife and children, the Sanders from the next plantation, and Demecleus stomped through the door just a few moments later. As more and more friendly faces walked in, the dinner became grander as the guests brought their own food to share. Many of them brought rounded helmets with blackened faceplate visors.

Dinner was beautiful. The three fowl roasted to perfection (Diane blushed) complemented perfectly by the berry sauces and stuffing. There was plenty for all and all ate heartily. Over the fiery mantle, a black visored helmet oversaw the proceedings. The winged eagle on its peak remained vigilant against all foes. And suddenly Petrol stood up and raised his glass promoting a hushed silence on the diners.

"To the friends we've lost, to the families they'll never have." He called. The others stood, children as well.

"to our comrades." They said in strong voices.

"May the Emperor bless their souls in heaven." Trev said as he raised his glass. The others said nothing.

They gathered 'round the fire. The children hushed, it was a classic moment. Markel would tell stories of their days as Guardsmen.

"Would you like to hear of our days on Kastafore?" he said prompting cheers from the children.

"No, no not _that_ story!" Diane called out. She was hushed quickly by guffaws from the others.

Markel sat back and rubbed his brows.

"now if I remember it right, those were the days when Orks had run rampant…"


	2. Chapter 2

_Extract from Corporal Sebatyne's Private Journal. 49__th__ Arkadian Infantry_

_First taste of action coming soon. I mean, first taste of big action. Huge world I heard. Emperor blesses us, we're coming in clean, nothing blasting at us from orbit.. Kastafore, it's a pretty sounding place, but its infested with the greenies. Heard local PDF was overwhelmed in a day. Throne we'll take them in half of one! Seems like I've been double checking and triple checking all my equipment. We've gotten these new sinister black helmets. Pitch black visors that don't let you see in but let you see everything out. Bless the Omnissiah (the throne that means). I managed to talk one of the pilots in to letting me fly the Fury around on a couple sorties. My ale rations have taken a dent but I don't regret it, it was wonderful. Maybe I should switch to the Navy, but where's the glory in that? Of course, the Emperor's glory is the only one I need._

_ENTRY ENDED_

"Gentlemen, here's the situation." the colonel said. Commisar Farcy was in the background his arms crossed, glaring at a trooper wildly. The trooper looked up and quickly stowed the porno slate back in his pants. His comrades guffawed.

"Space hulk crashed in the northwestern hemisphere of Kastafore and PDF units have almost been completely annihilated. This is a huge force, we estimate over 300 thousand orks. Vallhallan 12th field artillery is dirtside already and is offering fire support from the three remaining cities. However, the orks are moving surprisingly fast and it won't be long before those cities fall too."

The holoprojector showed an ugly sphere of a planet pinpointed by several focals of light, points of contact.

"Now, the Guard Unit immediately stationed below, 7th Gravapolian Infantry, is new. They're _farmers_ for thrones sake, we can't really expect them to hold up for long now can we?"

Everyone laughed. Colonel Fatasi was one of them alright. It was good to have a colonel that gave a damn about you.

"luckily though they've got the Gravapolian First and Second enroute, the Tallarn 229th, and two Units off of Valhalla."

The man next to the sheepish porno peeker raised his hand. "Sir, which units sir?" Valhallans had a legendary status, just knowing two of them were coming was good enough, but everyone had heard that _he_ might be coming…

"425th armored" Colonel Fatasi said and looked down on his dataslate "and 597th infantry."

The room buzzed into an immediate excited murmur. _He_ was coming. _Caiphas Cain_. Legendary hero of the Imperium, _he_ was the reason the man joined in the first place.

"Can you believe it Kolor? Caiphas!" his friend said.

"I know!" Sebatyne whispered back. "know way the Orks can win if he's coming."

"just be sure to leave a few chieftains for him." The other whispered. "I don't think anyone can keep up with that trigger finger of yours"

"That frakin' tomahawk too. The knife not good enough for you?" the man to Sebatyne's left whispered.

"shut up!" the commissar barked. He only needed it once, sharp and swift, it was like being slapped with a burning iron rod. Everyone, indeed, shut up.

"Now, we have small problem here, we'll be entering realspace shortly, however, warp currents seem to be pulling drawing other ships in. It the fleet can't deal with them, then we'll be sitting ducks on the ground. Questions?"

The room remained silent.

Fatasi checked his chronometer. "Dismissed." The troopers filed out of the auditorium.

Kolor directed himself to the bridge, in the honeycomb of the Battleship. Always a good idea to get the feeling of your home. The officer standing guard at the hatch nodded at them.

"Just here to look around trooper" he said, brandishing the lieutenant's chevrons at him. Markel winked at Kolor as they passed the guard. He could read his smile like a book _lucky you swiped the chevrons_. The Bridge was filled with the hustle and bustle of officers, checking signals, ship communication traffic, complaints from the techpriests, everything that ran a battleship..

"prepare to drop," The Captain said. He didn't seem to notice the two guardsmen that had just entered his domain but he probably was a very busy man.

The bridge officer voxed it shipwide. "we are reverting to realspace in ten seconds."

The drop was uneventful, just a sudden slam of the brakes it seemed as the ship decelerated and exited the warphole.

The scene that greeted Kolor was beautiful. He happened to be standing by one of the viewports. The planet, in full color was much more beautiful when it wasn't in the briefing. Lights from freighter traffic ringed the planet in a riot of yellow and white flashes. The occasional orange, sometimes blue flash lit up that distant area of space-

"Sensor contact!" an officer barked. The Electronics Warfare Officer tapped commands on his console. "weapons discharges at grid four two zero eight niner-

"vox contact, incoming sir!" another shouted over the cacophony of blaring consoles "Kastafore Traffic Control wants you on station _now_ –"

"Collision warning! Forty civilian freighters breaking _this _way range twenty kilometers closing thir-

"I have weapons lock!" the EWO shouted "Counting thirty plasma cannon discharges, impact forty seconds-"

Bow batteries standing by for firing." PWO barked "Hostiles starboard northwestward, firing solution in five seconds-

The XO started barking maneuvering orders to the helmsman as the bridge suddenly came to full alert.

"_Action stations, action stations, set condition one throughout the fleet. Action stations action stations, set condition one throughout the fleet, this is not a drill"_ echoed throughout the corridors, as the clamber of pilots boots rang down the ladderways as they scrambled toward their Fury interceptors.

"I want Furies out there_ now_. Launch reserve squadrons and have them pick off any torpedoes coming our way." The Captain said calmly. "We engage the enemies of the Empire now. Keep squadrons ten through twenty in reserve. Bombers standby."

The noise was incredible, and Kolor found that it was much like ground combat. _Maybe the Navy isn't that bad_.

Of course it was that bad, he couldn't actually watch the enemies of the Emperor die by his hand. _It's a job for deskies, I'm a guardsman_.

"Contacts confirmed, reading IFF transponders from the Imperial fleet, sensors show twenty ork asteroids just out of orbit. Lots of patrol craft in that mess. Looks like they're hitting the destroyers…" the EWO said.

"72 plus Ork bombers incoming, range forty kilometers closing fast!"

"Fighters have just launched, moving to intercept."

"Fury squadrons report one hundred percent efficiency."

"weapons free." The Captain nodded.

"All Furies, weapons free, fire at will, fire at will, fire at will." The Flight Controll officer muttered into his vox unit.

Twin drive trails from over 3 dozen Fury interceptors screamed past either side of the bridge viewports. Just ahead, blue plasma darts stabbed into the Battleship's bow. the front armor plates warped and buckled as superheated plasma blasted across it. a small detonation off the portside bow as plasma struck something assumably explosive. it was definitely small, the bridge did not shake.

"Frontal Life support damage!" another shouted over the din "rerouting power to secondary systems, fire control teams are on station _now_-"

"tell Kastafore to _call those bastards off_." The Captain's voice had a snarling edge in it though his face remained calm. "I will _not_ accept fratricide and I will take defencive action if needed."

As the EWO went to comply the order, another (kolor hadn't seen this man's eyes blink or leave his screen for the past four minutes) shouted out.

"Bow cannon has firing solution!"

"take the shot PWO" the Captain said, his eyes never leaving the viewports. Just ahead explosions lit up space as the interceptors lined up against the bombers and made devastating contact. The vox channel was alive, Kolor could hear screams of adrenaline fueled space junkies as they squeezed their triggers.

The bow batteries of the battleship opened up, the cannon cast blue light across the entire ship and sent a shiver in the decks.

"Ramps in ten" was barked over the channel override on Kolor's vox unit strapped to his chest. he looked toward his comrade and nodded. They exited the bridge without mishap. Kolor sprinted, it wasn't really a good idea to piss off the commissar, he'd seen twelve of his buddies flogged for unshined boots. After that, he'd made an extra effort to be tidy.

The ladders screeched as Kolor and Markel slid down all 3 decks toward the hangars.

They ran to the locker room. It was empty, everyone else was at the embarking deck. Kolor could feel the dozen or so dropship's drives sent gentle vibrations through the deck. Kolor quickly went to the locker _next_ to his and turned the lock with a practiced hand. He shoved the chevrons back onto the lieutenants dress uniform and slammed it shut. Then he went to his own locker and pulled out his equipment. Strapping the helmet to his head, then pulling out his trooppack and weapon, his jitters came back.

There were butterflies in his stomach. Their wings brushed against his spin and sent shivers running up and down as he sprinted toward the embarkation deck. The thousand man battallion was arranged in columns by company, and then down to their ten man squads. Kolor and Markel shoved their way into formation pushing their way into their slot: Alpha Company, third squad. Kolor quickly pinned his own rank, the corporal single bar to his right shoulder and stood.

The Lieutenant, chainsword strapped to his side and lasrifle on his back stood at the front of his Company along with the other 5.

The Major and colonel discussed quietly with the pilots, Commissar Fatasi glared over all of them. Another commisar, one Kolor didn't recognize stood uneasily by his much bigger predecessor. The way the man stood, the way his eyes darted uneasily at all the troops made Kolor guess: Newbie.

After a quiet but no less intimidating whisper from Fatasi, the younger commisar practically scurried over toward kolor and stood in line next to them. he shook hands with Kolor's lieutenant. "Commissar Iraal, attatched to Fatasi as an intern. he said that you should, ah, _ease me into service_." The lieutenant nodded stiffly. he looked over to Kolor's NCO, the man next to Kolor. "Guard him with your ass sergeant." Iraal stood stiffly straight next to Kolor, the others giving him wide berth.

"_Battallion!"_ Fatasi barked, getting the attention of several dozen of the other troopers still talking. _"Atten-Shun!"_ The simultaneous slaps of a thousand weapons smacking against light infantry armor reverbrated throughout the hangar and drowned out the drone of the dropships. It was the pinnacle of Imperial might, and they knew Fatasi was proud, despite the contempt he tried to portray.

_"By company!" _Fatasi barked as he about-faced. "_Embark!"_  
the companies marched, _step-step-step_, into one of 10 dropships. Each could hold a hundred men, and the battallions were divided by two. as soon as they entered the ships, everyone relaxed. the people up front, the veterans, began picking the best spots, the ones with the most intact seat harnesses and areas where their kit was in easy reach. It was going to be a "hot drop": drop under fire. Kolor managed to reserve a nice spot for his squad and he stowed his kit, a heavy trooppack, his short-stock lasgun and tomohawk harnesses facing out so he could grab it quickly.

_"Good evening gentlemen"_ the vox unit spoke. The pilot's voice was confident and cool, but still managed to drip cockiness into the voice. _"I'm Legs and I will be your pilot today. Please remember to strap in and keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times, though if you decide to stick your head out, thats you're problem."_ The remark brought cool laughter and lowered the tension a couple notches. _"Our stewardess Joygal will be along shortly with refreshments. I apologize but there will be some mild midair turbulence_. _Again I'm your pilot Legs, and Thank you for flying Leggy-Joygal Spacelines."_ The Troopship roared with laughter and the deep rumble of the Troopship's engines raised an octave.

Kolor physically felt the ship lift off from the deck, his stomach had a sensation of being pulled down for a moment and suddenly he felt it accelerate: his stomach suddenly slammed into the right side of his innards and everyone was almost literally shoved _aft_. The safety harness managed to keep Kolor from becoming one of the domino chain but pressed painfully through the desert camoflauged Guard uniform. Then came the worst bit of the hot-drop.

The crack of something shaving painfully close to the hull echoed inside the 100 man compartment and the dropship dove to avoid it. The stomachs of everyman dropped with it, but Kolor was only worrying about his own. It was a nightmare, the pilot was jinking up and down, left and right in evasive patterns to dodge _whatever_ was out there. Someone vomited behind Kolor after a particularly stunning barrel roll. Kolor wasn't amused at all. Then, something that didn't happen before, the ship lurched to the right and began bouncing a little, then righted itself like nothing had happened. Kolor looked around in confusion to find everyone looking ghostly white. Comissar Iraal in the seat to his left was apparently muttering Rites of Protection under his breath and Kolor couldn't blame him. Kolor wasn't sure if they'd been hit so he switched on his helmet vox. It didn't take long to find his pilot's channel.

"_-our Niner disengage repeat disengage, I am a friendly repeat, Wing Delta Four Niner is_ a _Friendly"_ Panic that wasn't there when he talked was in the pilots voice now. Another explosion rocked the ship violently "_Frak OFF, Thirty One I am a friendly repeat disengage-"_

_"Wing Delta Four Niner this is Fury seven-niner, two bandits on your twelve o'clock low coming in mark forty_."

"_Frak this! They're all over me! Get this bugger off my back! Fury Thirty One Disengage I've got two bogeys coming in on my twelve low I need you to take them out repeat disenga-"_

An explosion and the shattering of glass interrupted the drama. Kolor stood up and listened to the channel. Outside it however, he could hear air escaping from the hole something had obviously created. Slowly the sound trailed off and someone responded to another's hail.

_"This is Wing Delta Four Niner, This is Joygal, my pilots been hit and I'm still under fire, repeat I am still under fire."_

"_Copy four niner, Three One disengage now, you are targeting a friendly. Four Niner, what's your situation, are you in control?"_

"_Ah, negative on that I can't operate the pilot stick without pushing him away and the other systems need attending too or we lose atmospheric pressure in the troop bay"_

that was when Kolor unstrapped his harness. After all, he had a couple hours of flight experience, and flying an interceptor wasn't much different from flying a shuttle, right? Ignoring his comrade's gazes he marched up toward the flight deck where a smallish man was frantically tapping buttons and throwing switches across a blinking display. The viewport cracks had been sealed by some transparent cement. The pilot had his head blown completely off which left an unpleasant stain on the wall behind him. Kolor quickly slid in before the copilot figured out what was going on. Just as he slid in, the man turned toward him.

_"_The frak are you doing?" he snapped irritably.

"I'm flying this thing." Kolor said as he eyed the controls. Yes they were uniform to the Fury. He could land it. Or crash it right side up.


	3. Chapter 3

"Like Frak you are!" the other pilot shouted as something exploded off the starboard viewport. He irritably flicked a few switches and squeezed the trigger on a joystick. A roar penetrated the cockpit as twin autocannon opened up on the nearest Ork fighter. The target, unstreamlined, disproportional and trailing large gouts of smoke as it lumbered, exploded as the bolter shells raked across its spine. "Get off my flightdeck Groundie!"

"He stays" Kolor turned, Comissar Iraal was standing there. He would have posed a heroic figure but Kolor noted that his face was unnaturally gray. "I can't fly a ship and neither can anyone else in here accept this man." Iraal nodded toward him and Kolor returned to concentrating on flying. Almost immediately he dove as a pair of Furies tumbled to either side of the viewport in hot pursuit of a bomber. Iraal righted himself and straighted his cap before continuing. "and if you decide to impede us than you will be in direct defiance of the Commisarat."

The copilot gulped and nodded wordlessly. "Hope you can land us then. I'll tell you where our LZ is."

"Just concentrate on clearing my path" Kolor gritted as he snapped the stick to port to avoid the remains of a civilian shuttle.

Comissar Iraal turned to leave but stopped. He leaned over next to Kolor.

"You have had flight experience right?"

"Yes sir!" Kolor muttered as loud as he could. The troopship controls were sluggish at best, nothing like the Fury interceptor and the delay in the controls seemed like an eternity before the ship acted on the commands. Iraal's shaky bootsteps faded down the corridor.

"How much flight experience?" The copilot asked as he blasted the remains of whatever into oblivion. He tapped a command in the console to shut off a new alarm. He was obviously experienced, his arms moved with the fluidity of a man used to dealing with dire situations. He was a veteran in every aspect similar to the Guardsmen at infantry combat.

"Two hours in a Fury." Kolor couldn't help but grin sheepishly as he inverted and climbed to avoid an explosion. Far off an Ork ship, no weapons to be seen, slammed into one of the Orbital stations. Both were engulfed in balls of incandescant flames.

"Yeah, we're screwed." Joygal muttered, his eyes never leaving the viewport.

--

It was a nightmare flying in the space mess. It seemed Kolor spent an eternity dodging and weaving, whether it be ships of all types both friendly and hostile, or debris and explosions. The copilot, irritated as he may be, proved extremely competent at blowing a path straight through anything that seemed a danger to the ship. Testament to that, the ship had picked up not more than a few scratches and all in all recieved absolutely no damage whatsoever. Never the less, the danger was present and the copilot would kindly snapp off a peice of advice that came through the vox and auspex units every once in a while. After a while, two Interceptors pulled into position off either side of the dropship. Kolor was ready for evasive manuevering but Joygal shook him off. "They're escort fighters" he said. "Just follow them to the zone and I'll put us down from there. Kastafore is ordering us to deploy up at the front, Orks have begun their assaults on the cities and they're hard pressed down there." Off in the back he heard the Commisar bark at his men. It was funny, Kolor didn't see Iraal as that kind of Commissar, but then again, people change in the anticipation of combat. He became aware that Joygal had voxed it shipwide and the troopers were snapping their kit together and preparing to disembark "hot" under fire.

The interceptors peeled to one side and Kolor made as if to follow but Joygal told him to keep on flying and to cut the engines. Kolor flipped the engine control, three different switches toward his left thumb and hauled up the stick toward him for atmospheric reentry. Fire cracked and the ship shook as it slammed into the upper atmosphere, the viewport sparked flame and blinded Kolor for a couple moments. It was frightening, even Kolor had no control over it so he hooked his hands into the safety restraints and prayed for protection. He closed his eyes. Then Joygal nudged him roughly to take the controls again.

They were in blue sky and twisted spires of smoke were in the distance. Towering skyscrapers reached toward the heavens and the battle above marked the cities.

"There, that one" Joygal pointed at the city closest to them. Kolor could see tracer flares from Earthshaker rounds jet up and arc down toward their targets. "Now don't get cocky, you're in atmosphere. The moves you pulled up there could crash us down here. just take us in nice and easy." Kolor did, he wove between a few towers to avoid getting hit by friendly artillery and the battlefield was in front of him. Greenskins had completely wiped out the earth below, there were so many. Giant gaping holes were in their second and third waves as the Basilisk batteries found their marks amongst the horde. Kolor could see the Guard lines, a series of trenches as Gravapolian Infantry attempted to stem the unending tides of monsters.

"Bring us 'round so we can open up on them as we come out" Joygal said as he flipped another switch. The red "ready" light blinked on, it was a signal for the troopers to be ready to disembark. Kolor slowly eased the pedals to bring the rear facing the Ork horde and set the landing thrusters to slowly bring them down. The ship ground to a halt and a sickening _thump_ reverbrated throughout the frame. Kolor quickly, wordlessly, unstrapped himself and raced toward his seat. He found the place crowded and he had to push and shove his way to gather his equipment. He pulled his lasgun and flipped the safety switch to single fire. It whirred as it drained power from the cells and Kolor was combat ready. The Captain in command of the Platoon was in the front, eager to get out into combat. Already cracks of small arms and the much duller thud of boltershells slamming into the hull could be heard.

"You are Soldiers of Arkadia!" the Captain roared. "You are the finest the Emperor has to offer against the Greenskins! Do me proud and you do him proud. Do not fear the weapons of your Enemy! Rather embrace it for that is the Emperor's will!" the whirr as the dropship ramps slowly prepped to be lowered rose above the drone of weapons fire. Kolor tensed himself and made the sign of the aquila"All that die by your hand save a thousand others! And the glory of this will be yours and only yours! Fight now for Arkadia, for the Empire, for the Emperor!"

Green light: Go

The ramp thudded down into the mud. The front rank, of soldiers roared and surged forward the captain at their head. They got no more than two steps before bolter fire cut them down. It was a massacre. The front rank seemed to explode into bits of gore as dozens of exploding shells tore through their light armor and exploded an instant after they had imbedded in the soft tissue. The second rank, blinded by the blood stood little chance as the subsequent shells found them. Then the inaccuracy of Ork weapons lived up to its legendary status, but not the way anyone would have expected. Bolter rounds were now striking random members of the platoon, the man next to Kolor, somone he couldn't immediately recognized screamed in fear. A bolter round exploded his head. Kolor ducked, letting his helmet act like a shield for all the good it would really do him. But now he could see the Guard moving forward, a few members being able to bring their weapons to bear in retaliation. Then Kolor was among them and he surged forward. He caught an eight-foot behemoth in his sights and squeezed the trigger. The Lasbolt caught the thing in the eye and it crumpled still firing in death reflex.

"To the trenches!" Commissar Iraal barked over the vox. "We can't stand and fight! Grab some cover and waste them!" Kolor was happy to oblige. Already a dozen and a half of the fifty men that had disembarked were lying in shambles. There were no wounded, bolters tended not to do that. Kolor sprinted, someone ahead of him caught a shot in the leg and he tumbled down. Kolor bent over to drag him. He lifted the screaming man up onto his back and then felt something wet burst on his back. He turned, the man was no longer screaming and there was a gaping hole in his gut. He dropped him, cursing the heavy troop pack on both their backs and he dove for the trenches. He stood back up to find a guard member with the Gravapol eagle crest on his shoulders grimly firing a bipod mounted autogun.

Kolor spat grit from his mouth as he let the trooppack slide off his back. He peeked up and was venomously rebuked by a bolter shell. The distinctive _snap_ of the round whistling by his head forced him back down. Some of the others were dragging comrades. Most were screaming in pain. Two more shuttles ripped the air over them with thunderous roars of their thrusters and they settled down to land. Krak missiles raced up from the Ork lines but almost completely missed. One spiraled up and down slamming into the line of trenches and turning a gunner pair into ash. Kolor cursed. Here he was cowering behind a line of sandbags that only felt protective while men were dying around him. It wasn't battle. It was massacre. And he wasn't the one doing it.

He stood again to fire, and he could see the Orks scrambling madly toward him, firing weapons one handed, waving various melee items and roaring. It was all fluid practiced movement from there. Raise, present, aim, fire, drop and the cycle continued. He aimed for headshots, leg wounds would normally be quite effective but against Orks they wouldn't work, lasrounds to the knee would effect an Ork as much as hitting an Astartes trooper with a carpenter's hammer. He didn't know if the targets he hit were felled. He didn't care. All that mattered was the rounds were passing high, or slamming into the terra firma in front of him and the autoguns were holding keeping both sides from the ferocity of melee combat.

"I'm out! I'm out!" the Gunner shouted over the din. The belt-fed rounds had trailed off into an uneven pile on his side and his associate had handed him his last belt. Kolor could suddenly hear the _oomph_ sounds as infantry mortars, little more than grenade lobbing tubes, came into play. The enemy surged forward, as enraged as ever in the midst of fragmentation and high explosive grenades detonating in their midst. The dropships tried to lift off, the guardsmen scrambling for the trenches as they realized just what kind of a fight they were in, but the Orks had boarded and were obviously cutting the pilots to ribbons. One managed to lift off the ground and tumbled and wobbled through the air, a dozen Orks stilling clinging to the sides. a few dropped into the trenches where they were ferociously dealt with by the enraged troopers. The shuttle goosed up for its exit vector but suddenly wobbled again and slammed into the side of a far off building, plowing through and hitting the one immediately behind it before exploding.

Over the riot of noise on the vox channel, Kolor could hear Comissar Iraal barking orders: "_Ground batteries requesting fire mission point three zero alpha prepare to redirect on my order"_ The earthshakers were brought up to the front ranks of the Orks, several exploding into clouds of dirt and flesh. The ground shook, throwing off Kolor's aim. Someone slapped Kolor's helmet enthusiastically and when he turned he could see Markel grinning at him Comissar Iraal close behind. Kolor nodded again and stood back up trying to fire at what he could. Smaller things, they were definitely ork but not the size of the seven foot giants closing in on the lines raced through the barrage chittering wildly. Kolor let them have it, he switched to fully automatic and fired. His first burst stitched one up the chest and throat and his second burned holes through two other's heads. The enemy closed to fifty yards. They were in hand grenade range. As he paused to reload, Markel popped up and threw a spread of fragmentation grenades. The little things shrieked as shrapnel rounds embedded in their green flesh but not enough of them fell.

"Fix bayonets!" Comissar Iraal shouted as he revved his chainsword. There was a rasping of metal on leather as the guardsmen snapped their combat knives to the barrels of their lasguns. Kolor pulled out his tomohawk. It was a lovely weapon, the roughness of the darkened and aged wood upon the shining axe head felt perfect in Kolor's grip. He absolutely preferred it to the bayonet, which could be stuck in a body and would only come out with a kick, the tomohawk's heavy axe head and short range meant that it could be wielded quite effectively in close quarters. And the swing alone was strong enough to hack through even guard plating.

Then the orks were upon them.

They weren't the full sized ones, Kolor breathed an instant prayer of gratitude, but they were dangerous none the less. The first greenskin leaped into the trenches was met by a decapitating bow from the tomohawk. Another chittering creature was cloven in two by Iraal's chainsword as it tried to jump on him. Kolor let the backswing catch a third in the gut driving its breath before kicking the back of its knee giving it a bloody line across the back of its head. Something leaped on him, Kolor let his instincts take over.

Long ago, his family had studied a martial art that used the size and momentum of the opponent as their weakness. Kolor studied with them and became a master of it, his defence becoming his offense in fluid movements that at first seemed so bizarre that they weren't possible.

He used it now, the ork had tried grabbing his neck so he ducked down and let his opponent's moment carry him off Kolor's back. The greenskin, painted blue, slapped painfully into the dirt wall and Kolor broke its spine with a kick. Iraal set one flying with a kick of his own and clove the hands off another before flowing beautifully into a stab that gutted two at once. There was another chittering maddly as it raised an axe for a strike on his unprotected back.

Kolor let fly with the tomohawk.

It entered the back of the things skull, and pink brain fluid gored out as it fell in surprise. Iraal looked behind him, sword raised to find Kolor yanking the weapon out of his enemy. Iraal nodded in thanks.

The humming of a second chainsword made Kolor turn around tomohawk in hand but he was knocked down. Comissar Fatasi stood, his greatcoat bloodied and battered in the middle of a miniature corpse pile. He glared at Kolor.

"Don't just sit on your arse and gawk there pusser!" he shouted. "Watch your own back!" he climbed out of the trenches and tossed another unfortunate creature head first into Kolor's line of attack. Kolor dealt with it. The enemy stopped coming then. Kolor looked up. It was the calm before the final crashing of the waves. The Earthshaker bombardment had temporarily stemmed the tide of Ork, but now they came on, giant fullsized behemoths. Eight feet tall, their arms alone would be able to rip a man in two. And now they were past it. The wail of panic was drowned out by the enthusiastic whoops of the front rank. Kolor watched several members, Gravapolian and Arkadian alike begin to climb out of the front trenches and were immediately cut down.

Commissar Fatasi stood his ground glaring at his targets as he put single shots into troopers, _his own troopers_ heads. "No retreat! No retreat! No surrender!" He barked. Kolor gulped and held his position.

"Prepare yourselves for your defining moments!" Fatasi shouted. Markel locked eyes with Kolor. _Was he mad?_ Fatasi's sword thrummed to its highest setting. "Up and over, charge!" And whatever madness had taken him, the feat taken on his men was greater, Kolor found himself leaping out of his trench to join the running tide of men as they mounted their counter charge. Their roar shook Kastafore to the core.


End file.
